Leslie Daniels headed for the far side of the deserted subway platform, her rubber soled waitress shoes squeaking on the polished tiles as she walked. It had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to get home, put her aching feet up and watch Letterman before falling into her bed with her cat Ruffles. She might even take a bath, if she could scrounge up the energy, but worried that she might fall asleep in the tub.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught a reflection in one of the glass-encased advertisements that thanked people for riding the subway. She suspected it was someone moving on the opposite platform, but when she glanced around she that she was the only person waiting for the train on either side. It must have been a bird flying by, yes that was probably it, or a loose piece of newspaper.

As she headed down toward the end of the platform she passed another advertisement, this one with a new movie poster, and again there was a figure reflected in the glass. Startled, she spun around, but found no one there. She was alone on the platform. She shook her head at her own paranoia and continued on past one of the tall columns, only to feel a feather softness touch the back of her neck.

Spinning around for a third time she called out, thinking someone was playing a trick on her. “Hello? Is anyone there?” Silence.

She put her hand to the back of he neck, trying to wipe away the feeling that had frightened her. Her arms broke out in goose flesh and a sudden chill crawled up her spine. She turned and continued on toward the end of the platform, her mouth suddenly so dry that she couldn’t form enough moisture to spit.

She slowed as she approached another of the encased advertisements, then slowly stepped before it and peered into the glass. The florescent lights of the subway reflected back and there was nothing else there but the poster. Berating herself for being foolish, she continued toward the end of the platform, but her steps quickened. She stopped finally and trying to ignore all the scenarios that her over active imagination was conjuring up pulled her compact from her purse to powder her nose. Not that Ruffles would mind if she had a shinny nose, but it would keep her mind occupied. She picked up the circular sponge and glanced in the mirror, dropping the compact when a shadowed face appeared next to hers.

Swinging around she saw that she was still alone. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She was not in the mood for games and there was really no where someone could hide in here. “If someone is there please come out!” The only response was her own words echoing back at her.

A gust of wind blew a newspaper across the floor and Leslie flinched from it, nervously. Her heart beat had increased and she was starting to sweat. She looked desperately down the tunnel, praying for the train to come, but the tunnel was dark and silent.

“There’s no one here,” she told herself, firmly. “You’re just being stupid. You’re alone and the train will be here any minute.”

At that, she heard the sound of the train and a dim glow appeared in the tunnel. Her heart rate started to slow, her fear easing. She pulled her coat higher on her shoulders as the vibration from the train set a ringing in her ears and the platform started to tremble beneath her. She bent to retrieve her compact and started to smile as she straightened, then saw the deformed face in the cracks of her mirror.

The high pitched squealing of the train break drowned out her scream as pair of hands pushed her from behind.